Damaged Goods
by Miss Grace O'Malley
Summary: A Pretty Woman twist on TVD. Elena is a girl working the streets to get by and Elijah is a man with more money than he can spend. What happens when they spend a night together? Prize for Alyn!
1. Part I

**Hi, guys! This is the one-shot promised to Alyn for winning my little contest!**

 **As of right now, I consider this complete, however, if there's enough interest in it, I'll consider adding more to this later.**

 **As usual, I own nothing; this is all for fun.**

* * *

 **Damaged Goods**

"Get up!"

Elena groaned and rolled over, the waning glow of sunlight slipping through the threadbare curtains of her window. She'd rather sleep than do anything productive today.

Kit rolled her eyes. Grabbing the blanket, she tugged as hard as she could, rolling Elena off the bed with a loud _thump_ as she landed on the ground.

"What the hell was that for?" Elena growled, her chocolate eyes flashing to her bestfriend-slash-roommate, "Why do I have to work tonight? Last night was rough enough as it was!"

Kit smirked, cracking her gum as she tied her auburn hair back with a hair tie, "Because when you don't work, _I_ don't work. I get passed up for that little skank on the strip."

The brunette shrugged, crossing her legs on the floor and pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders, "You win some, you lose some."

"Come on, 'Lena! One night. I just need to meet my quota so we can pay the rent and maybe afford some groceries for this week," Kit pouted, her bottom lip protruding as she gave her friend her best puppy dog eyes, "Please."

She thought about it for a moment before sighing, "All right, _one_ night. But next time, you're going to ask someone else. I need my beauty sleep, too."

Elena watched as Kit squealed and began pulling clothes out of the closet. She lay back on the floor, watching the discolored ceiling with feigned interest. Sometimes she wondered how she got mixed up in all of the bad things in California, but then she remembered how she was raised. Her mother was hardly ever home, busy working two and three jobs just to keep food on the table and a roof above their heads while her father was nothing but a dead-beat drunk. He didn't come around much.

Elena got her GED when she was sixteen, leaving home as soon as she could. She got a job working at a gas station for awhile before she learned that the streets paid better. That's where she met Kit. Kit had been working the streets since she was fifteen, always smarter than your average nightwalker. She knew how to get around the police and still make a profit and she accepted Elena with open arms. Of course, Kit was more of a druggie than she'd ever admit, but Elena would never consider that life. She couldn't afford to be high when her life depended on reflexes and common sense.

When Elena's mother found out what she was doing, she promptly kicked her daughter out. Elena moved in with Kit and they'd been doing fine ever since.

"Is this okay?" Kit asked, holding a sleek, black mini dress up against herself, "I don't want to look like I'm asking for it, but-"

"You _are_ asking for it," Elena cut in with a smirk, "Besides, you look great. You're trying to draw in as many customers as possible."

"Right."

* * *

Elena stood on the corner with Kit, the two of them laughing about past customers and the like. It was a decent night so far, Elena had been picked up more times than Kit, but it averaged out in the end. Sometimes it bothered her that this was the line of work she'd chosen, but then she remembered that she didn't really have any skills to get a better job.

"It looks slow tonight," Elena observed, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth as she looks at the cars passing by."

"Maybe we should get a pimp," Kit suggested with a shrug, "Carlos likes you and-"

The brunette shook her head vigorously, hating the mention of the local drug dealer, "Forget it. We work for it, we keep it."

The waited, hoping for a break in traffic, but none seemed to come. Kit scratched at her arm absently as she walked back and forth, looking like a caged animal. She stopped and turned to Elena, her eyes antsy, "I can't handle this tonight. I'm going home."

Elena stopped and stared at the redhead, "That crack is burning a hole in your pocket. There isn't even milk in the fridge. The rent's due, now come on-" she stopped talking when she noticed Kit's eyes zero in on something down the road.

"Hey, hey – there's rent," Kit said, smirking as a Ferrari made it's way down Hollywood Boulevard.

She shook her head, "He's not gonna want us."

The Ferrari passed them before it slowed and stopped a few yards away from them. The window rolled down and revealed a man with dark hair and eyes, a strong jaw line nearly causing her to swoon.

"Excuse me," he called out, looking at Elena.

Kit turned towards the brunette, a smile plastered on her face, "Don't take less than a hundred. You look hot tonight. And remember, don't mouth off, they don't like that."

Elena nodded and gave Kit a quick hug, "Okay. Go home, but take it easy on that shit."

"You're the greatest," Kit said, pulling away and walking down the street. She called over her shoulder, "I'll wait up for you!"

She waited until Kit was out of sight before she turned and stared at the car. She hates what a car like that represented – money, luxury, _smugness_. Sighing, she turned of the switch inside of her that meant she cared. She fluffed her hair up into the wild curls that men loved so much, threw her shoulders back, and sashayed towards the car with a sexy smile on her face.

"Hey, sugar. You lookin' for a date?" It had taken too long for her to master that town of voice without cringing.

The man looked down his sharp nose at her, confusion coloring his face, "What's that?"

"You lookin' for some company?" She rephrased, wondering how dull he was to ignore her invitation.

He shook his head slightly, "Uh, no. How do I get to Beverly Hills?"

"What?" Elena asked, dropping her pretense of being as stupid as most girls who worked the streets, "You gonna tell me you're lost?"

"Yes," he answered curtly.

She snorted, "Great. What do I look like? A tour guide?"

The man paused before answering, "No, you look like a hooker."

"Actually, I'm a movie star out for a walk," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Good. Can you tell me how to get to Beverly Hills?"

"Sure, for five bucks."

"That's ridiculous," he threw back, his lips pursing.

"The price just went up to ten."

"Why don't you just do it out of the kindness of your heart?"

Elena smiled and sweetly said, "Sit…and spin."

"Sit and spin," the man repeated in amusement, "All right, why not?" He pulled out a money clip as she turned to look around.

Her eyes met Carlos' across the street. He was watching her in a way that made her skin crawl. Remembering what Kit had said about having him as a pimp she panicked.

The man, oblivious to her meltdown, tugged out a bill and held it up, "You have change for a twenty?"

Elena pulled open the door and jumped in, securing her seatbelt before she turned to him, "For twenty, I'll show you personally. Drive."

* * *

Elena sat back and relaxed, occasionally spouting out directions to get him where he needed to go.

"What's your name?" He asked after a beat of silence.

"What do you want it to be?" She volleyed back before she sighed, "Elena. My name's Elena."

He looked sideways at her, "You like being a hooker, Elena?"

"It pays."

"So do day jobs," he pointed out.

"Day jobs," she repeated sarcastically, "Yeah, I've tried them." She watched the streets before telling him to turn right onto Santa Monica Boulevard.

"Must be dangerous. Hooking, that is," he said.

"Tell me about it," she replied, watching the lights pass by the car, "LA is suffering a wacko epidemic. And who knows where half the guys I pick up have been. I mean, I use condoms, always. And I get checked out once a month at the free clinic. Not only am I better in the sack than an amateur, I'm probably safer."

The man nodded, "Very good. You ought to have that printed up on your business card."

She looked at him, studying his face. Now that she was closer, she could see that his eyes were really a deep mahogany and his hair was a rich chestnut color. His skin was much paler than hers, almost porcelain, but still a very becoming color.

"If you're making fun of me, I don't like it," she said accusingly, her cheeks gaining a bit of color.

He turned and looked her over for a second before looking back to the road, "Sorry. If I did, I didn't mean to."

Elena ignored him. She didn't need a man being nice to her out of pity. She didn't need a man at all. Her hands fiddled with her flimsy shirt as she thought about Kit. She hoped that her friend had actually gone home and not to dig herself deeper in debt with Carlos, especially since she didn't earn anything that night.

"Okay, pull over. Let me out. I've got to get back to work," she said as he pulled over. She looked over and gave him a small smile, "Stay on this street and you'll hit Beverly Hills."

The man stared at her curiously, "What do you charge for company, Elena?"

"Company would cost you," she thought a moment, "A hundred dollars."

"For the whole night?"

"For an hour."

His brows creased, "You're joking."

"I never joke about money," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Neither do I," he said, amused, "A hundred bucks an hour though, that's pretty stiff."

She grinned and reached across the seat, her hand landing in his lap, "No, but it's getting there."

He smirked at her forwardness, "Elena, how much to put up with me for the entire night?"

"You couldn't afford it," she stated, climbing out of the car and pulling her tight skirt back into place.

"Try me," he said as she closed the car door, speaking through the opened window.

"Three hundred."

He smiled, revealing straight white teeth, "Fine."

She smiled back, her persona dropping back into place as she purred, "What's your name, lover?"

"Elijah."

* * *

Elena looked out the window at the sparkling lights that covered the hotel. Elijah had driven the rest of the way silently and she was getting little nervous. However, she had never been to such a nice hotel before for a 'date'. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad.

"My raincoat's in the back," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning off the car, "Put it on."

"Why?"

"You may feel more comfortable. This is not a place that rents rooms by the hour."

"You mean, they don't have hookers," she said plainly, reaching behind her and grabbing his coat any way.

He laughed, "Every place has hookers, but of this hotel has hookers, they don't look like they're…"

"Off the boulevard."

He nodded, "Exactly."

The hotel was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. It was quiet and clean and Elijah seemed to command the attention of all the staff in attendance. She walked beside him, pulling the coat tighter around herself, thankful that he had the foresight to know she'd need it. He led her to the elevator and spoke to the attendant, telling him that he would be resuming his room in the penthouse suite.

 _Penthouse_?

Elena shuddered slightly, the nip of the air conditioning getting to her. He led her from the elevator and into a set of rooms that nearly took her breath away. It was beautiful and practically glowing. The lights of the city twinkled through the windows and she was impressed. She barely listened as he called room service, too entranced by her surroundings.

Elijah took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace, a slight smile on his face as he observed the young woman in front of him. She wore too much makeup, that he was sure of. And her hair was quite beautiful in the riotous curls she wore. She accented her body in a way to satisfy the baser instincts of males and, while is _was_ appealing, he was sure she would look even more beautiful outfitted from one of the designers in LA.

"Well, now that you have me for the night, what are you going to do with me?" She asked, spotting him in the chair and pulling him from his thoughts.

He smiled, "Want to know something? I don't quite know. I hadn't planned this."

She snorted, "Do you plan everything?"

"Always."

She looked at him for a second. Normally men like this had a woman on reserve for nights. Most women would jump at the chance. She shook her head, "Well, the meter's running, it's your money. Speaking of which, cash'll do. In advance."

"Fair enough," he acquiesced, standing and taking out his wallet. He handed her three crisp hundred dollar bills which she stuff in her jacket before she had a chance to really look at them.

She reached for his belt to unzip his pants when he turned away abruptly.

"Let's talk some more first," he said, resuming his seat and motioning for her to take the one across from him.

"Right," she said, taking the seat and looking at him brightly, "So! In town on business?"

* * *

"It's a very good year," Elijah acknowledged, taking a sip of the champagne he had ordered for them.

Elena sat back and watched how he savored the alcohol. She'd never been one for drinking, but the way he did it _did_ make it seem enticing. She sipped at her own glass, her nose screwing up slightly at the bubbles.

He laughed silently at her display. It was refreshing to see a woman who wasn't used to everything that money could buy – her responses were true and genuine. He pushed over the plate of strawberries, "Try one."

"Why?" She asked, picking up a strawberry and examining it. Their knees almost brushed as they were sitting so close. Why he had decided to move their 'meal' to the floor, she had no idea.

"Because they bring out the flavor of the champagne."

Elena sighed, "Jesus, you act like you're seducing some Valley girl you picked up at a dance club." Was he really trying to seduce her? Hell, he'd already paid.

"Elena," he said slowly, a slight warning snaking through his voice, "The meter's running. Cooperate."

She gathered her wits. Slowly biting into the strawberry, he watched as the juice stained her lips before she washed it away with a sip of the champagne. Her eyes were dark as chocolate and her skin was glowing from the fire light across from her.

"You really are a very beautiful girl," Elijah said softly, stroking back a wayward curl that had migrated over her shoulder.

"Just a romantic, that's you," she said huskily, a slight blush stirring in her cheeks.

"Yes," he replied quietly, his eyes looking at her red-stained lips longingly. They were so wet and inviting, just begging to be kissed. He leaned closer, almost brushing them.

Elena jerked back, "Not on the lips." He had frozen and she redirected his mouth to her breast, hoping to salvage what she could.

* * *

Elena slithered out of her clothes, watching closely as Elijah's eyes followed her every move. At some point, they had moved to the bedroom, just barely avoiding a romp in the living room. He loosened his tie as he watched her, knowing that soon he would be as naked as she was.

When she finished, she walked confidently over to him and helped rid him of his clothes. This was a dance she'd done a hundred times before – the male body had somewhat ceased to amaze her. He was more than adequate in the right places and she bit the inside of her lips to keep a smile from forming on her face; she couldn't let him have the upper hand.

Guiding him back towards the bed, he leaned against the headboard, his stiff manhood pointing at the ceiling as she placed her knees on either side of his hips. His hands went to her tiny waist and he marveled at how small she truly was. Her breasts were a nice handful and her thighs were thicker than most of the women he'd been with.

He watched as she rolled the condom onto it, taking care to ensure it was properly used.

Elena exuded an air of confidence as she slowly lowered herself onto him, keeping her sounds contained. This was about her client's pleasure, not hers. Never hers.

She nestled herself against him as she rocked. Her hands lay flat against his chest, giving her the gravity she needed to push herself off of him before dropping back down. She liked being in control, knowing that it was because of her that he would give himself over to pleasure.

She couldn't deny how good he felt inside of her. It had been too long since she had a man last longer than just a few minutes, but she knew she couldn't truly enjoy it. She needed control, she _craved_ it, and that's exactly what he was giving her by allowing her to ride him.

"What do you like?" Elijah asked, palming her breast delicately as the fingers of his other hand curled around her hip.

She shook her head, a hint of sadness crossing her face before she banished it, "If you want to turn me on, I'll just pay you back the three hundred. Lay back and let me drive."

His brow furrowed as he took in her body language. She really was just going through the motions. Was that how it was with her other clients? Did she resign herself to going without just for them?

He bit his lip as she began moving faster, reading the signals from his body. He was close, but he had never not given a woman pleasure before.

Ignoring her protest, he flipped their positions, the writhing brunette now beneath him. He grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders as he pounded into her, knowing that she would respond to that. One hand clutched her waist, pulling her towards him on every stroke, while the other fluttered over her clit, giving her the additional stimulation that she didn't know she craved.

Elena tossed her head back and forth, a small moan escaping her lips. It had never been like this for her. She had never experienced something so fulfilling and consuming. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her orgasm washed over her in waves, causing her body to shudder in bliss.

He watched as a sheen of sweat began to cover her skin, her plump lips simply begging to be kissed. A woman had never looked so gorgeous beneath him and he was sure that it would never happen again. He longed to kiss her, but he respected her boundaries enough not to press his luck.

Her face had caused him to go over the edge himself, filling the condom with his seed as he groaned her name above her. He panted for a moment before he pulled out of her, slinging the used condom into the wastebasket beside the bed. He turned and pulled her to him, surprised that she was so pliant.

"Elena?" He asked softly.

She had fallen asleep.

Elijah smiled to himself as he pressed a kiss to her temple before burying his face in her curls and drifting off to sleep himself.

* * *

 **Be sure to leave a review and tell me what you thought/if I should continue!**

 **~Grace**


	2. Part II

**Alright, I've decided to do a few installments of this since you all so nicely. It won't have a regular updating schedule, but I hop you all enjoy it!**

 **Excuse any errors, I have no beta.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

 **Part II**

When Elijah awoke the next morning, he thought he was being suffocated. Mountains of chocolate curls were pressed up against his nose and it took him a moment to realize that Elena was still in bed with him. He smiled inwardly; surprised that she hadn't tried to leave after he fell asleep the night before.

Sighing, he delicately extracted himself from the beautiful brunette, saddened by the loss of closeness. He watched her carefully, noticing that the heavy makeup she was wearing when he picked her up has long since been rubbed away by sleep. He knew that she was pretty underneath all that, but he was surprised to see that she was a knockout. He looked around the hotel room, a sad smile crossing his face as he looked at the way her clothes, however cheap and tattered as the were, were carefully folded and set on a chair while his expensive clothes were haphazardly thrown around the room.

Asleep, Elena's witty, smart-ass attitude is gone, and it endeared him slightly to the sweet, gentle girl that he knew to be laying beneath the surface of her tough façade.

Giving her a final long look, Elijah turned and made his way to the bathroom for a shower before his conference call.

* * *

Elena awoke to the sound of voices. She tried to ignore them, burying her face closer into the fluffy pillow that was beneath her head, but she was already too awake to drift away again. She groaned and rolled out of bed, none too gracefully.

Shuffling to the bathroom, she closed the door tight behind her before she started the shower. Stepping in, she was all too glad to wash away the events of the night.

She had never allowed a _client_ to take control of a transaction the way that Elijah did. Part of her was angry that her control had been relinquished so easily, but at the same time, she was thrilled that she was finally able to have a little enjoyment from it.

 _Enjoyment_.

That wasn't what this job was for. She wasn't supposed to enjoy sleeping with men for money. Somehow, the idea of enjoying it made it seem even dirtier than it already was.

She shook away her thoughts before rinsing off quickly and grabbing a hotel robe and throwing it on. She huddled beneath it, curious to the feeling of expensive cotton when her own clothes were so threadbare that they barely did the job anymore.

She listened from the bedroom until she heard him get off the phone. Elena hesitantly made her way to the living area and meandered in the doorway. Elijah was dressed smartly; a crisp white dress shirt, ironed black slacks, and suspenders instead of a belt.

He turned from the food on the table in front of him and gave her a small smile as he poured a glass of orange juice, "Good morning."

Elena shifted her weight to the other foot as she looked down, "You didn't wake me," she muttered, looking away. "I'll be out of here in a minute."

"No hurry," he assured her with a shake of the head, "Would you like some breakfast?" He motioned to the spread in front of him and she has to admit that it looked good.

When was the last time she had a proper meal that didn't consist of fast food, anyway?

"Only if you do," she volleyed back, resorting to her sarcasm.

Elijah chuckled, motioning for her to take the seat across from him. When she did, he served them both breakfast, keeping a watchful eye on her body language.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

"Yeah," she shrugged, taking a bite of bacon, "Too good. I forgot where I was."

"Occupational hazard?"

Elena's eyes snapped to his, a retort on her tongue before she noticed that he was genuinely concerned. She relaxed. "You were up early."

"I had some work to do," he said offhandedly. He hesitated, "About last night…"

She smiled, letting her familiar façade take over once more, "Oh, baby, you were the best. I was beside myself."

He pursed his lips to hide a smile, "Mmm, I could tell."

"I just hope it was worth three hundred bucks," she muttered, spearing a piece of egg before shoveling it into her mouth.

"I'd say you give a good dollar value," Elijah smirked, picking at his own food before images of last night filled his head. He hesitated once more, "Do you ever…enjoy it?"

She shrugged, "I like guys if that's what you're asking. Not that I trust 'em."

"No? Why's that?"

She grinned, "'Occupational hazard'."

Elijah chuckled.

"What do you do anyway?"

"I buy companies," he answered, sipping once more at his orange juice.

"No shit. They expensive?" She asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

He nodded, "The one I'm buying this week will cost around 150 million."

Elena's eyes widened, "Dollars?" He nodded again as she whistled low, "You are major league, baby. Your mother must be very proud."

* * *

"How much for the week?" Elijah asked once they finished their breakfast.

Elena stopped in her tracks halfway to the bedroom and turned around to look at him. "What?"

"I'm in town until Saturday," he said by way of explanation. She just looked at him as if he wasn't speaking English. He sighed and slowly said, "Do you want to stay here for the week?"

It took a moment for her to respond, "It'd cost you."

"Of course," he nodded, "How much?"

"Five full nights…and days, too?"

Elijah nodded again, watching the wheels turn in her head.

"Four thousand."

"Elena, may I point out that five more nights at three hundred a night is only $1,500."

She shrugged, "But you want days, too."

"All right, two thousand."

"Three."

He smirked, "Done."

"Holy _shit_." She breathed before flipping into her street persona, "Sugar, you got it. I will treat you like a prince. Anything, anything you want."

"I'm not just talking about sex."

She growled, "Look, butthead, I'll treat you so nice that you'll never want to let me go, okay?"

"Three thousand for five days," he mused before looking her square in the eyes, "And, Elena, I _will_ let you go."

He walked past her into the bedroom, grabbing his coat from the closet as she dressed. He sighed and pulled out his money clip as soon as she was finished.

"I'll be out most of the day," he said, peeling bills from the clip before handing them to Elena, "I want you to go out and buy some decent clothes. Nothing too flashy, not too sexy. Conservative. Understand?"

Elena nodded, following him to the door of the penthouse before her sarcasm kicked in, "Yeah, you want me to dress like your high class girlfriend. You're wasting your money though. All I'm gonna do is hang around the hotel."

He opened the door and looked back at her, "Think again. I'm taking you out to an important dinner with me tonight."

The door shut in her face before she could respond and she growled, "What? Are you crazy?"

He smiled to himself before talking through the door, "Probably."

* * *

Elena lay on the couch in the penthouse, staring at the ceiling.

 _Three thousand dollars._

She didn't think that she'd seen that much money before.

"Three thousand!" She yelled into the empty room with a smile on her face. Remembering Kit at home, she grabbed the hotel room and dialed her number, excited to share the news. She waited and waited until the phone finally picked up.

 _'_ _Lo?_

"Kit! Where've you been? I was about to hang up."

 _I was asleep. You woke me. You okay?_

"Kit, listen, the guy from last night, the one in the Ferrari, I'm at this hotel, the Regent Beverly Wilshire, it's this absolutely unbelievable place and he's hired me for the whole week!" She babbled, excited. "And, Kit, listen, he's paying me three thousand bucks! We can get out of the apartment. We can get out of this town. We can do anything!" She paused, listening to the static on the other end, "Kit? Hey, you there?"

 _Why'd he want you?_

Elena's heart sank, knowing that her friend was just jealous. She took a deep breath, "He…he just does."

 _I'm sorry, 'Lena. Carlos has been on my back…did you get the money up front like I taught ya?_

"Three hundred for last night and he gave me extra to buy some clothes. Now listen, I'm going to leave an envelope for you at the front desk," she said, doing mental math, "Give two hundred to the scum and the other hundred to the landlord for part of the rent. Spend it on drugs and I'll pull your hair out."

 _I'm getting dressed now. I'll be over. Bye._

"Wait! Where do I go for the clothes? Good stuff on him."

 _In Beverly Hills? Baby, Rodeo Drive!_

* * *

Elena looked wide-eyed and delighted as she walked up the Drive that Kit had told her about. The street was lined with more shops than she could count and she peaked into every window. She was oblivious to the dirty looks that were aimed her because of her clothing.

Settling on a little boutique, she hesitated for only a moment before she stepped inside. The woman behind the counter heard the sound of the door and looked at Elena disapprovingly.

"May I help you?" She asked coolly, looking the brunette up and down.

Elena shuffled and meekly said, "I'm just looking, thanks."

She tiptoed through the shop as if she was afraid to touch anything. Her eyes found a simple dress and she examined it cautiously just as the saleswoman appeared behind her.

"Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Yes. Something…conservative."

"Yes…" The saleswoman said snootily, turning her nose up at Elena's clothes.

Elena ignored it, choosing to go a different route, "You have beautiful things." She paused, waiting for a reply. When none came, she continued, "How much is this?"

"I don't think it would fit you."

She narrowed her eyes, starting to understand what the saleswoman was getting at, "I didn't ask if it would fit. I asked how much it was."

"It's very expensive."

"What is it with you?" Elena asked, her body stiffening, "I plan on spending money."

The saleswoman sneered, "I don't think we have anything for you here. You're obviously in the wrong place."

She closed her mouth, not realizing it had dropped open at the woman's forwardness. She turned and stomped towards the door before flipping the woman off behind her and storming out the door.

Elena hadn't been treated like that before and it made her feel worse than she already felt. She stood in front of the store, watching other women pass her and crudely point or make subtle motions to her. Thinking that she needed to get a handle on herself, she hurried back to the hotel as she tried to hold back tears.

Before it could register in her mind, she already reached the hotel and was strolling through the lobby towards the elevator. She looked up as she almost ran right into someone and she blinked.

"May I help you, Miss?" The man said, looking at her curiously. He was taller than she was, with a balding head and a sharp suit.

She looked up at him, shaking slightly at the thought that she might get thrown out, "I'm just going to my room."

"You're a guest here?" He asked skeptically.

"I'm-I'm with a friend."

"And who is that?"

"I…Elijah…" she cursed inwardly. She didn't know his last name. She didn't know anything about him! She looked around the lobby, her eyes brightening when she spots the elevator Operator. "He knows me," she blurted out, pointing at the attendant.

The man turned and waved the attendant over before he asked, "Do you know this young lady?"

The attendant nodded, "She's with Mr. Mikaelson."

"Mr. Mikaelson?" The man asked in surprise.

"She apparently joined him last night."

The man waved the attendant away before turning back to Elena, "Why don't you come with me? We'll chat for just a moment." He took Elena's arm gently, but firmly, and led her away to his office, stopping at a posh room that was decorated richly.

He let go of her and placed her in a comfortable chair before he leaned against her desk and looked at her, "What's your name?"

"Elena," she said softly, feeling like a child sitting in the principal's office.

"Miss Elena…things that go on in other hotels don't happen at the Regent Beverly Wilshire." He paused, picking up a knick-knack on his desk, "Mr. Mikaelson, however, is a very special customer. And we like to think of our special customers as friends. As a customer, we would expect Mr. Mikaelson to sign in any additional guests. But, as a friend, we're willing to overlook it. I'm assuming you're a…relative."

Elena found herself nodding.

"I thought so," he said, "You must be his…"

"Niece?"

"Of course," the man smirked, "Naturally, when Mr. Mikaelson leaves, I won't see you in this hotel again."

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

"Good, I'm glad we understand each other," he smiled and added gently, "I would also encourage you to dress in a more appropriate manner."

Elena's face screwed up as she tried not to cry, "That's what I was _trying_ to do." She couldn't help as tears slid down her cheeks against her will. She pulled the money out of her pocket and threw it on the desk, "I was trying to get some other clothes…but…they wouldn't…they made me feel like shit…"

The man gave her a sympathetic smile before he handed the money back to her and reached for the phone, dialing, "Women's clothing. Bridget, please." He paused as the call was connected, "Bridget, hello, this is Barnard Thomas over at the Regent Beverly Wilshire. I'd like to ask a favor of you. I'm going to send someone over, her name is Elena. She's a guest of ours, a very special guest." He looked at Elena with a kind smile, "She's from out of town and she needs a little help dressing. Perhaps you could help her out. Thank you very much, she'll be right over."

He set the phone down and looked at her, "There you are. If you have any other problems, come ask for me personally. My name is Mr. Thomas."

She looked up at him mischievously, "Barney."

* * *

Elena waited nervously for the elevator doors to open. The cab ride over had been fine, but she couldn't help the weird flutter in her stomach. When the doors opened, she walked cautiously to the women's clothing section, looking for the woman Barney had called.

"You must be Elena!" A larger woman with blonde hair said as she walked towards her. Elena nodded and she continued, "Let's look at you." She circled the brunette like a hawk, taking in everything about her. "Where are you from, dear?"

"Georgia," she said, absently pulling the first place that came to mind.

Bridget tsk'd, "No wonder. For starts, you should know that hot pants are horrid, even when you _do_ have the legs to carry them off. What are your plans while you're in town?"

Elena thought for a second, "Well…I might be going out to dinner."

"You'll want a cocktail dress, then. Turn," she decided, making a spinning gesture with her finger as she looked her over once more, "You have a beautiful figure – a little too out in the open – but simply lovely. Size two? Do you need shoes?"

"I dunno. Do thigh high, leather boots go with a cocktail dress?"

Bridget turned around and called out, "Philip! We'll need shoes!" She turned back around and pulled Elena towards a rack of dresses, pulling out a satin midnight blue dress that flared out at the hips and stopped just below her knees. She smiled, "Your uncle will like this."

Elena scrunched up her nose, "He's not really my uncle."

The saleswoman gave her a knowing smile, "They never are, dear."

* * *

When she walked back into the penthouse, garment bag in hand, the phone was ringing. Rushing to the phone, she picked it up, "Hello?"

 _Never answer the phone. Ever._

She tsk'd, "Believe me, this will be the last time."

 _Did you buy some clothes?_

"I got a dress, yeah."

 _Just one? Christ…I hope it's appropriate._

"It's very tasteful. I think you'll especially like the zipper in the crotch." She was met with silence and cleared her throat nervously, "I'm joking.

 _Let's hope so. You'll get more clothes tomorrow. I'll be pushed for time so meet me in the hotel lobby at seven forty-five sharp. Got it?_

"No, I don't 'got it'," she scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Even the farm boys in Georgia come to your door when they're taking you on a date."

 _This isn't a date._

Elena snorted, "Go by yourself, then. Where you taking me anyway?"

 _The Rex._

"Any good?"

 _I think you'll approve._

She sighed dramatically, "All right. I'll meet you in the lobby. But only because you're paying me to."

 _Thank you very much._

She hung up the phone with a roll of her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she noticed she had quite a few hours before she had to get ready. Just as she was about to hang up her dress, the phone rang again. She picked it up without a thought, "Hello?"

 _I thought I told you not to answer the phone._

"Oops!" She giggled before hanging up again with a smile.

* * *

After puttering idly around the penthouse for about an hour, she wandered back to the lobby. She walked up to the desk Mr. Thomas was working at and cleared her throat, "Barney."

He looked up, startled slightly at her sudden appearance. "What is it, Miss Elena?"

"Elijah is taking me to some fancy place for dinner," she started, a crease appearing between her brows, "The Rex. Ever been there?"

"It's a bit beyond my…range shall we say," he answered uncomfortably.

Elena nodded and sat on the edge of his desk, "Yeah, mine, too. Is it like, y'know, _normal_?"

Mr. Thomas sighed, "I think you'll find it normal enough."

"Will I like it?"

"You'll like it fine."

She smiled, hoping off his desk, "Okay. Thanks, Barney. You're the best."

He smirked, "Just mind which fork you use."

She turned back in horror. "Fork? Isn't there just _one_?"

"Restaurants such as The Rex require that the customers have a certain etiquette," he explained, lowering his glasses and looking her over, "Perhaps we should have a crash coarse in the dining room to help you prepare."

It didn't take long for the pair of them to be sat across from each other at a fully set table. Elena looked down as was concerned at the amount of silverware adorning her place setting. Biting her lip, she tried to remember what was what as Barney explained.

"In fifteen minutes I can teach you everything you need to know to dine with the Queen," Mr. Thomas said, ignoring the silverware she was holding in her hand and picking up knife, "First, as you pick up the knife, you shift your fork to the left hand."

She looked up, the fork in her right hand, "But I always eat like this."

"Either you're European or badly brought up," he deadpanned.

She giggled, "Hmmm…I _vonder vich_."

"Actually, some of the richest people I know have the worst manners," he continued as If she hadn't spoken, "Of course, Mr. Mikaelson, being of old money, knows his way around a table. All right now, pay attention please." He held up a fork, "Salad fork."

"What if they serve soup?"

"They will serve salad."

"But what if they serve soup?" She insisted.

He huffed and pointed to a spoon, "Then you use your soup spoon."

She grinned, "I like steak."

Mr. Thomas obliged her and picked up the appropriate utensil, "Then you would use you-"

"Steak spoon!" She dissolved into giggles, almost poking herself in the eye with the spoon she was clutching.

He swallowed his exasperation and continued to teach her as best as he could. Elena seemed to be really trying to remember what he was teaching her, but it was so much at once that she was having a difficult time. She watched the spoons, forks, and knives he used like a hawk, trying to come up with a way to remember them all.

"Miss Elena-"

"Maybe I'll just order a burger," she sighed with a frown, "That way I can eat with my hands."

He ignored her, "Miss Elena, there's a salon here in the hotel. Instead of worrying unnecessarily about table manners, why don't you just have your hair down instead?"

"Professionally?"

* * *

Elijah walked through the doors of the hotel, a slight scowl on his face. Work had not gone as smoothly as he had hoped and he needed to unwind. Too bad he had a dinner that would help make the problems of the day go away if he succeeded.

His mood only got worse when he looked around the lobby and noticed Elena was not waiting for him like he'd asked. Walking over to the concierge desk, he picked up the phone and was about to dial the penthouse.

"Good evening, Mr. Mikaelson," Mr. Thomas greeted him. Elijah looked at him blankly and he continued, "Barnard Thomas, manager of the hotel."

Elijah suppressed an eye roll and turned his attention back to the phone, "Of course, yes. If you'll excuse me for just a moment-"

"I have a message from your 'niece', sir."

"My what?"

"The young lady staying in your room?"

Elijah narrowed his eyes as he hung up the phone, "I think we both know she's not my niece." He noticed that the manager seemed uncomfortable, but persisted anyway, "Does this hotel have a problem with that?"

Mr. Thomas rushed to appease him, "Mr. Mikaelson, a guest of yours, is a guest of ours and shall be treated accordingly. The young lady asked me to tell you that she is waiting for you in the lounge."

Elijah nodded curtly, "Thank you."

"Very intriguing woman, Miss Elena," Mr. Thomas said as Elijah walked away, causing him to pause slightly, "Have a good evening, sir."

Elijah shook his head to clear away his thoughts. He didn't have time to think about the prostitute that he hired for company. Besides, if he didn't show up with a date to all the social events his business partner was throwing for the week, he'd be under a microscope.

He walked into the lounge and looked around, not spotting the woman in question. His eyes stopped when he saw a woman with riotous curls encased in a blue satin dress at the bar. She turned and smiled at him and he noted that she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she did the night before.

She rose elegantly from her seat and walked over to him, a slight look of disapproval on her face, "You're late."

Such a beautiful woman deserved an apology and without thinking, he replied, "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," she said brusquely, taking his arm when he offered it.

* * *

Elena was seated comfortably at the table. They had met a father and son duo that owned the company Elijah was interested in. She had almost grimaced when she looked at the place setting nearly overflowing with silverware.

She smiled when the waiter set down a delicate salad in front of her and she reached for what she knew was the salad fork. She looked over at the elder man, James, and her brows creased when she realized that he had picked up a different fork and was digging into his salad. She looked at Elijah and saw that he hadn't started eating yet and glanced at David, the other man, and he hadn't either.

She pursed her lips and put her fork down as a slight panic came over her, realizing that she'd rather have her stomach rumble than embarrass Elijah at an important dinner.

"So, young man, I understand you're trying to take over my company," James stated bluntly as he put his fork down and wiped his mouth.

Elijah paused for a beat, the question taking him by surprise before he smiled, "Please don't patronize me, Mr. Kross. Our ages mean nothing here."

David cut in, "Mr. Mikaelson, we know you've purchased at least twenty percent of our stock. We also know you plan to file a formal bid for a majority share."

"Twenty-five percent," Elijah corrected smugly.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I built Kross Enterprises myself," James said, a sneer on his face, "I know every man who ever worked there by his first name. I know their wives…and their children. If your intention is to take over my company and turn it into a glorified real estate deal, think again."

Elijah reached for his salad fork and began to eat as he thought over his answer. Elena's eyes noticed that he picked up the same fork she had and picked hers up again before taking a bite.

"What do you suggest, Mr. Kross?" Elijah asked after the silence had stretched for a few moments.

They're interrupted for a moment as the waiters take away their plates and add new ones – while Elena tries to finish her salad before they take it.

"What would it take to buy our stock back?" James asked with pursed lips, "Name your price."

Elijah smiled, "To get me in the mood to sell – double what I paid. But your company doesn't have enough capital right now to buy _anything_."

James' son fidgeted for a moment before he confidently replied, "We're on the verge of closing a large Navy contract. Double is ridiculous, but we can assure you a healthy profit on your shared. We would give you a promissory note…"

"You're not getting any Navy contracts," Elijah deadpanned, taking both of the other men by surprise.

"There's no way you can know that," David sputtered, his eyes wide.

Elijah shrugged, "But I do know. I also know your lines of credit are over-extended. If I don't buy your company, someone else will. Ah, the escargot."

Elena watched the new plate being lowered in front of her and she stared at it dumbly. They looked weird and slimy and she wasn't sure she wanted to put any of them in her mouth. Deciding to take the plunge, she picked up what she thought was the right fork and attempted to stab the snail, becoming flustered when it didn't work. Looking around the table, she realized tat no one else was eating either.

A waiter came over and set escargot forks on the table and she sighed in relief before turning to the waiter and softly asking, "'Scuse me, what are these things?"

The waiter looked at her quizzically before replying, "Escargot, mademoiselle."

Elijah leaned over to her and whispered, "Snails."

She stared at her plate in horror. She, like James and David, no longer seemed interested in eating while Elijah eats the slimy little things with pleasure.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin before speaking, "Mr. Kross, I'm not here to sell you my stock. On the contrary, I'm here to buy yours."

"You've got a lot of nerve," James said angrily.

"No, what I have is a lot of money."

"I know all about you, Mr. Mikaelson," James continued, ignoring Elijah's comment completely, "When you buy companies, they have a way of disappearing. Even the pension funds are stripped clean! The last three companies you took over were cut up in so many pieces, widows were left without their retirement checks."

"What I did to those companies was perfectly legal," Elijah volleyed back calmly.

James shook his head, "I don't question the legality of what you did. It's your morality that makes me sick. I will not allow my company to be raped by a man like you."

"It is not _your_ company," Elijah spat, losing his cool, "It's a public company. And I _am_ going to acquire it. Either I buy from other stock holders or I buy from you."

Elena wanted to roll his eyes at the testosterone at the table, but settled on trying to stab her snails instead. Perhaps they weren't as disgusting as they looked.

"I would suggest that you and your board cooperate with me, rather than fight a battle you don't have the ammunition to win," Elijah finished.

Elena stabbed her snail hard, causing it to fly across the table and make everyone look at her. She blushed and looked down, "Slippery little suckers…"

James rose and nodded to Elena, "If you're excuse me young lady, Mr. Mikaelson." He turned to his son, "Deal with this, David. You know where to stand. I need to go someplace and puke."

David sighed, "Men like my father built this country. He was no saint; he screwed people. But for every guy he stepped on, he gave a hundred men a good job."

Elena spoke for the first time, "He seems like a nice man."

Elijah sighed, "We can reach an understanding on this."

David shook his head, "I don't think so. You should know we're going to fight you with every resource we have."

"Do what you have to do," Elijah shrugged, "I don't take it personally."

"I do. I take it all very personally," the man said before turning to Elena, "Very nice meeting you, Elena."

The pair watched as David left and she looked at him expectantly.

"And that's the way the game is played," Elijah said, giving her a grin.

"Some game. Screwin' some poor slob out of his retirement," she said softly. Looking over at Elijah, she noticed she hit a nerve and added, "Snails for dinner. No wonder everybody is in such a bad mood."

* * *

Elena watched as Elijah stared out the window of the penthouse, a pensive look on his face. He had already drained his champagne glass and she moved next to him and refilled it.

"Thank you," he nodded to her, sipping this glass more slowly.

She arched a brow, "You're upset, huh?"

"Upset? No. I never get upset about business."

"You liked the guy, though," she pointed out.

Elijah huffed, "Whether I liked him or not is irrelevant. It's business; there's no emotion involved in business…if you want to survive."

Elena smiled, "We're exactly the same! Kit keeps telling me not to get emotional when you're turning tricks – that's why no kissing – it's too personal. The key is like you're saying. Stay numb, don't get involved. When I'm with a guy, I'm a robot, I just do it." She stopped suddenly, realizing that she was being way too forward with a client. She smiled slightly, "Except with you. At your price, I give my all." He laughed and she added, "Let's not talk about the heavy stuff. Come on, relax." She walked behind him and began to rub his shoulders.

He relaxes against her touch, "That…is very good."

She continues her massage before turning him to face her. He watched her with lidded eyes as she unknotted his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

"Know what we're gonna do in a little while then?" She asked, a sly smile on her face, "We're gonna call Domino's and have 'em deliver a big ass pizza. We're gonna eat it in bed and we're gonna watch television."

He quirked his mouth, "Television?"

"Yeah, it's this box, and it has pictures and sound. You don't have to use your brain at all."

He shook his head, "I have work to do."

"Nu-uh," she said, leaning forward and brushing her lips against his throat, "No work." She fumbled with his belt, "Is that why you're the boss everyplace else? I'm the one in charge here…" She kissed his chest, and begun to slip down onto her knees, his belt pulled from his pants and tossed somewhere behind her.

Elijah had half a mind to stop what she was doing, but as soon as her warm mouth closed around his cock, he was lost. She expertly bobbed her mouth up and down on his length, fully focused on his pleasure. She hadn't had time the night before to truly lavish him in attention and she was surprised to find that she wanted to. Her small hand wrapped around the base of his cock as her tongue swirled around the swollen head. Her other hand cupped his sac gently and massaged it in time with her sucks.

"Fuck, Elena," he groaned, his hand going to her curls and tangling in them. He wasn't sure of the last time he had been on the receiving end of such a miraculous blowjob, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

Elijah watched as she engulfed his full length with every suck. He gritted his teeth as the pleasure began to well up inside him. He wanted to warn her, but he couldn't get his brain to form thoughts.

She felt him tense under her ministrations and she mentally smiled. With one last suck, she forced her mouth all the way down, her nose nuzzling his neat pubic hair as she felt him release in her mouth, eagerly sucking it down. Pulling back, she gave him a saucy smile as she placed one last kiss to his softening member. Daintily wiping her mouth, she stood up and grinned.

"Let's go see about that pizza."

* * *

 **Be sure to leave a review!**

 **~Grace**


	3. Part III

**Hardly got any reviews for the last chapter...thinking about speeding this along because my muse isn't be fed. Maybe a chapter or two left if that's the case.**

 **Excuse any errors, no beta.**

* * *

 **Part III**

Elena blinked her eyes open as the events of last night swam back to the front of her mind. She had to admit that Elijah was an excellent lover, better than she'd ever had for a client, and she really had to tramp down on the feelings threatening to mingle with business. She looked over at his side – when did she start thinking of it as _his_ side – and encountered an empty bed. Upon further inspection, she saw that his credit card was resting on his pillow.

"Wake up, Elena," he called before walking out of the bathroom fully dressed except for his tie lying limp around his neck, "Time to shop."

She groaned and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling dully. She didn't want a repeat of what happened before. Pushing aside her insecurities, she sat up when Elijah approached the bed and deftly tied his tie for him. The poor man was hopeless even though he wore suits every day.

"I still don't understand why you only bought one dress," he said, cocking his head and observing her.

She rolled her eyes, "It wasn't as much fun as I thought it was going to be."

"Why not?"

"Well, you know those cold bitches that work in those stores and try to intimidate you?" She asked before deadpanning, "It works."

Elijah bristled at her words, his brow furrowing as he asked, "Was someone rude to you?"

"I had a little problem in one store," she admitted, not daring to tell him that she only had enough nerve to be ridiculed once, "I wasn't dressed right. I don't know…I just don't belong there. Maybe I'll just go back to Bridget. She was nice."

"Elena, you belong wherever you are. I don't care how you were dressed, they were the ones who were wrong, not you." He sighed and sat down next to her on the bed, "People aren't going to respect you unless you respect yourself."

"Will you come with me?"

He glanced down at his watch and she covered it with her hand, her doe eyes pleading, "Please?"

* * *

Elijah had taken her to as many shops as her heart desired, ensuring that she had a multitude of dresses, blouses, and slacks as well as jewelry, shoes, and handbags. They had filled up the town car that was taking them everywhere and Elena couldn't help but smile at the fact that all the clothes were now hers.

The sun was starting to set and they were walking along Rodeo Drive. She pursed her lips as they passed the store that had started it all and she gathered her courage.

"One more?" Elijah asked, a small smile tugging at his lips when he noticed she had stopped in front of a boutique.

"Just one," she promised before slinking through the doors. She felt more confident dressed this way. She was wearing a pink dress that was very flattering, but very conservative. Her shoes matched perfectly, as did the handbag she was clutching a little too tightly. She was a ball of nerves and she was wondering why she even bothered to come back.

Her eyes scanned the shop and noticed the saleswoman who was rude to her last time and she felt her confidence leave her in a huff. She was busy with another customer and it gave her time to prepare.

Before she could process what she was doing, she walked up to the pair of women and said, "'Scuse me."

The saleswoman looked up and smiled pleasantly, "Yes?"

"Do you remember me?"

The woman shook her head, "No, I'm sorry, I don't."

"I was in here yesterday," she said, slowly raising her middle finger and watching as recognition bloomed across the woman's face, "Yeah, that's right, it's _me_. I want you to know something. You made me feel terrible. I wasn't dressed right and you said I didn't belong here. Well, I do. You're the one that was wrong, not me. And I want to tell you something else, I'm never gonna shop here again as long as I live."

She stuck her tongue out at the woman before turning and walking out the door. Chancing a glance behind her, she saw the customer thrusting the dress she had in her arms back at the woman and leaving the store as well.

"I trust you did what you wanted?" Elijah asked as his long legs carried him to catch up with the raging brunette.

Elena nodded curtly, "She got what was comin' to her. And I'm pretty sure she lost out on a sale, too."

"I can have that place closed, if you'd like," he offered as they approached the town car.

She smiled, "Nah, let her wallow in her misery a while longer."

Elijah looked down at his watch and back to her, "I have to go to a meeting. It shouldn't take long. I trust you can take the car back to the hotel? The bellhop will bring your bags up."

* * *

"You were right! Kross mortgaged everything he has down to his grandson's college tuition to secure loans from the bank," a short, balding, overweight man said, his eyes gleaming, "And not just any bank, a bank we do business with."

Elijah sighed and sipped his coffee, staring out the window at the city below. He hated coming to these meeting when Stuckey, his partner, was on the warpath to absorb every company he could.

"It goes without saying that your business means a great deal more to them than our friend Kross's," he paused, waiting for Elijah to say something, "All you have to do is make a call."

He didn't want to think about taking over another company when there was a petite brunette waiting for him at his hotel. His business game was off lately.

Stuckey glared at him, "Excuse me for saying this, but what the hell is wrong with you this week? First, you go soft on the pension funds. Now, you're giving him a chance to get away? As of two minutes ago, you are committed to the tune of over fifty million dollars-"

"Come on, Bill, don't talk to me about how much money's involved. It's my money-"

"And some of it's _mine_ ," Stuckey snarked, "Elijah, his jugular's exposed. We can take the company and be done with it."

He hesitated. Had he really changed so much in the past few days? What was Elena doing to him? He sighed, "Get the bank on the phone for me."

* * *

Business meetings were becoming more of a hassle than he'd ever thought they were before. Walking into the penthouse, Elijah realized that the room was dark, save for candlelight. A table had been set up in the middle of the room and was laden with food and wine chilled in a bucket off to the side. A fire was roaring in the fireplace and soft music was playing – he almost smiled to himself.

"Hi," Elena said shyly, standing in the doorway to the bedroom wearing one of the silk robes she had picked up earlier that day. She smiled slightly, "I thought maybe you'd like dinner."

He nodded, "Thank you, I would." He gestured to her outfit, "It looks nice."

She smiled deviously at him, "Wait till you see what I have on underneath."

His interest peaked, "Please."

Elena hesitated briefly before opening her robe and allowing it to fall to the ground. She was completely bare underneath, the candlelight playing off of her olive curves and causing him to nearly drool.

In two long strides, he had her in his arms. His mouth went to her breasts and she wrapped her legs around his lean waist and tangled her fingers in his hair. His large hands cupped her ass as he suckled, loving the taste of her sweet skin.

"What about dinner?" She panted, tugging his hair slightly so he pulled back to look at her.

"Later," he promised, carrying her to the bedroom and tossing her on the bed, "I quite think that I deserve dessert first after the day I've had." He climbed onto the bed and stopped between her legs, throwing her legs over his shoulders as he delicately kissed the soft bud between her legs.

"Oh!" She squeaked, her eyes widening in surprise. She'd only had one other man between her thighs in such a way and, from what she remembered, it was sloppy and awful. That was one of the reasons why she had decided not to try to gain pleasure from her clients; money was money and it was simply a job.

Elijah could sense that she was thinking too much and he delved between her wet folds to bring her more pleasure. His thumbs held her plump lips open as his tongue slithered into her opening and lapped up her delicious wetness. She had a unique taste that instantly had him craving more and, obliging his urges, he secured his mouth against her as his nose bumped her clit expertly. She writhed beneath him until her mouth opened and she screamed his name, shuddering against his mouth as she came down from her high.

* * *

"You always been rich?" Elena asked him quietly, raising the washcloth and washing along his broad shoulders.

She had had no energy to complain when he suggested taking a bath, leaving the dinner she had ordered long forgotten. He rested between her legs as she tried to scrub away the stress he had been under before he came back to the penthouse. He had even followed her candlelit ambience and left the lights in the bathroom off.

"No," he answered, leaning back slightly and enjoying her ministrations.

"Seems like it," she said with a shrug, "I guess it's easy to get used to, huh?"

"Easier than learning how to be poor," Elijah quipped, closing his eyes when he hands hit a particularly tense spot, "My father's family was wealthy. When I was young, there were cars and houses, private schools, nannies. But then my father divorced my mother to marry another woman. And he took his money with him."

Elena pursed her lips and urged him, "Keep talkin'. I like hearin'."

He shrugged, "Not much to tell. I went to public school after that, then onto a university on a scholarship. I went to work for an investment firm and within eight years I owned it." He paused, his voice quiet when he continued, "My father was chairman of the board of the third company I ever went after. I swallowed that company and threw out the pieces. One of the pieces was him."

She sighed internally, tracing nonsense patterns on his back as she felt him relax slightly. She laid her head against him, "You still mad at him?"

"He died a long time ago," Elijah answered.

Before she could think of a response, he had turned in her arms and buried his face against her neck. Teeth met soft skin as he grabbed her thighs and pulled them around his waist, his hard cock heavy against her core. With a harsh bite to her neck, he pushed inside her, earning him eight little crescent wounds on his shoulders as her nails dug in.

"Fuck!" She gasped softly, feeling him stretch her tight walls. She had only taken him a few times, but she had been hoping that she would have adjusted by now. She had no other choice but to cling to him as he thrust inside of her repeatedly.

It wasn't about his pleasure any longer; it was about burying the part of him that wanted to show emotions. Elena brought something out in him that he hadn't felt for a long time. Taking it easy on companies was something he never did, but since she came into the picture, he couldn't help but think of the people he'd be putting out of work.

She was thrusting her hips up to meet his, mindless of the water spilling out of the tub, they'd take care of it later. Their coupling was frantic and needy. They both needed some sort of release and they were intent on finding it within each other.

Elijah kept his face against her neck, scared that if he didn't, he would be tempted to finally capture her lips with his own. He sucked and bit the skin of her neck, knowing he'd leave a mark but not particularly caring as her tightness began fluttering around him. Moving his free hand from her hip to her clit, he rubbed frantically, desperately trying to bring her off before he did.

As soon as Elena clenched around his cock, he was lost. Hazily remembering that he hadn't worn a condom, he pulled out of her and grunted as his seed spilled across her stomach and swirled into the water.

She panted heavily, her fingers tangled in his hair as he lay on top of her. She wanted to smack herself for allowing him inside of her without a condom, even though she was on birth control, but she figured that if she did that with client, he'd be the safest bet.

He needed comfort and she did her best to offer him that. She knew what it was like to grow up with only one parent. And, at that moment, she saw that they weren't so different. They each represented what the other could've become and it scared her.

* * *

 **Enjoy it? Leave a review!**

 **~Grace**


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